


Truth no. 1

by punch_you_with_friendship



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Dark Side OC, Fights, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Tears, Virgil does not trust Logan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-16 00:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16943379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punch_you_with_friendship/pseuds/punch_you_with_friendship
Summary: Logan is bad with feelings. He’s often insensitive, and he’s terrible at comforting others—he knows this about himself. But the others have mistaken his lack of awareness for lack of caring, and when Patton, Roman, and Virgil are kidnapped, he’ll have to find a way to prove them wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: cursing, punching, bruises. There's a character named Wrath, so expect plenty of shouting. (Always let me know if I missed any!)

“You told him _what?_ ”

“I’m fairly sure you heard me,” Logan said, glancing around Virgil’s room once more. His foot tapped the carpet impatiently.

“Yeah, I did, but I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Virgil replied, running a hand through his hair in distress. “I told you to reassure him!”

“And I did. Everything I said to him is an objective fact.”

“Facts aren’t going to make Patton feel better!” Virgil said, audibly struggling to keep his voice steady. The lamp on Virgil’s bedside table flickered in response to the emotion. 

Logan sighed. He wasn’t sure why Virgil was making such a big deal out of this. Patton being overwhelmed with emotions was normal, so what was so different about this instance of it? Besides the fact that it concerned Logan.

Virgil groaned. “This is on me, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have asked you to talk to him.”

“Oh, really?” Logan said, laughing humorlessly. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have. You know I don’t like to tangle myself up with emotional issues.” 

Virgil looked up and glared at Logan. Silence hung in the air.

“You know what? Forget this. I’ll comfort Patton myself,” Virgil grumbled, walking toward the door to his bedroom. He threw it open unceremoniously.

Logan blinked in surprise as Virgil stepped into the hallway. “Wait! Did I misspeak?” Logan said, calling after the anxious side. Virgil promptly sank out, leaving silence as his reply.

Logan stared at the empty hallway for a moment. Then he rubbed his forehead in confusion, letting out a groan. Why couldn’t anyone just say what they meant?

Earlier that afternoon, Virgil had approached Logan, saying that Patton was convinced that Logan didn’t like him (of all the ludicrous assumptions). Logan had sat down with Patton at Virgil’s request, and he’d done his best to reassure Patton by telling him that his purpose as Morality was irreplaceable. It was a sentiment that would have calmed Logan down easily—not that he would ever be in that position—but it apparently wasn’t good enough for Virgil.

Ridiculous. How could Logan dislike someone who was so important? 

He stepped out into the hallway. The walls were covered in dark cloth and band posters, and the railings were draped with spiderwebs. Virgil’s corner of Thomas’s mind certainly had personality. Perhaps Logan was lacking in that area.

Er, Logan’s room—his room was lacking. The side himself had plenty of personality. Right?

Logan took a deep breath and glanced in the nearest mirror to see that there was eyeshadow forming under his eyes. The room was getting to him—it was time to leave.

He sunk out, appearing in the hallway of his own room. A touch of the bedroom door revealed his perfectly spotless living space.

Spotless, but for one thing out of order.

“Logan, finally. I thought I’d have to drag you out of Virgil’s place myself,” the side standing in Logan’s room growled. The carpet was already smudged with black from his ever-filthy combat boots, and Logan cringed at the grime.

“Wrath. What are you doing in my room?” Logan said calmly. He hadn’t seen this particular side in months.

Wrath clenched his fists. “I was waiting to talk to you! Why else would I stay in this dump for longer than a second?” He asked, stamping a foot.

“Is that so? You’re not usually the type to bide time for something,” Logan commented.

“I was waiting to get you alone!” Wrath said. He took a step toward Logan, and when Logan stepped back, his shoulder blades hit something solid—the door. Logan had never closed it. Why was it closed?

Logan shook his head to clear it. Why was he panicking? Wrath had probably closed the door with his mind. Nothing to lose face over. “Alright. What did you want to speak with me about?” He said at last.

Wrath ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “You know Thomas, right?” Wrath began. “You see everything that happens to him, and everything that he does.”

“Of course I do. Do you not?” Logan asked.

“Shut it. What I mean is, you know how much of a little bitch he can be.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Interesting wording. Be more specific.”

Wrath gritted his teeth. “I mean, he never does anything that makes sense! He always has to suck up to people, and prance around chasing his dreams or whatever. He doesn’t stick up for himself anymore!”

“Well, Thomas inconveniencing himself and following his whims is a habit of his. But I don’t see why you’re suddenly so upset about it. He’s always been this way.”

“It’s just…” Wrath clenched his fists. “It’s all their fault!”

“Whose?”

“Theirs! Roman’s and Patton’s and Virgil’s! They don’t do anything but hold Thomas back!”

“And what do you plan to do about that?” Logan asked, rolling his eyes. He was getting bored with this conversation. Did Wrath even have anything he—

“Take them out.”

Logan’s eyes widened. That had come out of nowhere. “What? What do you mean?” He asked, a trace of fear in his voice.

Wrath chuckled. “Now I have your stupid attention. Look, I’ve been talking with Deceit—“

“Of course you have. You never plan anything on your own.”

“Quiet.” Wrath snarled. “Stop interrupting me! I was gonna compliment you!”

Logan laughed nervously. “Come again?”

Wrath glared at Logan. “You heard me! You’re the only light side who calls the others out on their bullshit. You’re the only one that’s not a coward!”

“Uh…” Logan said. He loathed to think that he had any qualities Wrath valued.

“And you’re, y’know, kinda smart. You could help me!” Wrath said.

Logan looked at Wrath incredulously. “Help you do what? Hurt the others?” He asked. Was Wrath serious?

Wrath huffed. “I get it. You’re gonna whine and say that it’s ‘not logical.’” He picked up a picture frame off of Logan’s desk and tossed it onto the floor. It was the only photograph Logan kept in the open—it was a group shot of Thomas, the other light sides, and himself. Wrath curled his lip at it. “But come on. It’s not like they actually do anything for you.”

“But what about the last time a side was gone?” Logan said, starting to panic. “When Virgil ducked out, Thomas was rendered completely incapable of doing anything!”

“That’s because Patton and Roman were still around. They’re the ones that like making Thomas lazy.”

“I-I…” Logan stammered. He was speechless. What was Wrath intending to do? This was crazy!

“Come on! Are you gonna help me make our lives better or not?” Wrath asked, locking eyes with Logan. The logical side stared back.

Wrath didn’t seriously expect Logan to help him with this, did he? Whatever this even was. “N-No. I will never stoop down to your level,” Logan said.

Wrath let out a noise like a wild animal. “My level?!” He yelled. “You’re not as above us as you think you are. You’re just like me!”

Logan laughed. He didn’t know why—Wrath’s words were terrifying. But before he could say anything, Wrath grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, the dark side’s face inches from Logan’s own. Logan kept his face blank.

“I don’t know why I bothered to come here. You’re too weak to take an opportunity when you see one!”

“J-Just consider—“

Logan was cut off by a fist slamming into his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. Logan sputtered, pain blooming in his torso as Wrath released his collar. He collapsed onto the ground.

“At least I know you can’t stop me,” Wrath growled. “You don’t care enough about anything to try.”

Logan coughed in response.

And suddenly, Wrath was gone.

Logan curled in on himself, shaking miserably. He hated being rendered so vulnerable, especially at the hands of someone like Wrath. There was no logic in Wrath’s mind, but sometimes the way he thought was almost… Familiar. Logan despised it.

He spent several minutes on the ground, struggling to breathe. When he finally regained control, he lifted his shirt to examine the spot where Wrath had punched him. A bruise was already forming, staining his pale skin purple.

Logan closed his eyes. Wrath wasn’t the scariest dark side, but he sure was the most violent.

Logan stood up and began to pace. He knew he shouldn’t move around after getting a blow to the stomach, but he couldn’t help it—he was restless, and he had to think about what Wrath had said.

Wrath’s parting words had likely been another intimidation tactic. But even if they had been, why had he sounded so confident? Logan was perfectly capable of ruining any plan executed by Wrath, the worst planner of all the sides. So what made Wrath think he could take Logan? Or, more accurately, what made Wrath think that Logan posed no threat at all?

And why had he said that Logan didn’t care about anything? Clearly Logan cared. If he didn’t care, why would he even exist? What would be his purpose?

Logan stopped pacing. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything. Wrath was an idiot.

And besides, only one thing truly mattered at the moment: What was Wrath going to to do the others?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Deceit (not sympathetic), manipulation, cursing (Always let me know if I missed any!)

The next day, Logan was at his wit’s end.

“Thomas, would you mind helping me search?” he said. He was shining a flashlight around the room, religiously searching for clues. He hated being in Deceit’s room—it smelled of needlessly expensive cologne, and it was covered in illusions and tricks. Every time Logan picked up a box or pillow, it flickered and turned into a balloon, or a rubber chicken, or a party popper. Everything in the room seemed to be behind one big smoke screen.

Logan glared at Thomas, who was sitting on the couch, looking at the floor. An irritated expression was crossing his face.

“May you provide me with some assistance, please?” Logan asked again, gritting his teeth.

“If I must,” Thomas droned. He made no move to stand up.

“Yes, you must!” Logan barked. “It is imperative that we find this key! Do you wish to have your personality back or not?”

“I can’t be sure.”

“What do you mean, you can’t be sure?” Logan snarled. “You adore the other three! You put all of your effort into making them feel heard! Why don’t you wish to return them to safety?”

Thomas did not respond.

Logan growled. Why had he brought Thomas on this mission? With Roman, Patton, and Virgil out of commission, Thomas was an apathetic shell comprised of logic and darkness. The only helpful thing Thomas had done was tell Logan exactly what Wrath had done to the others—kidnap them, lock them in his room, and hand the key to Deceit. And what had Thomas done since? Sat and thought about nothing?

Logan glared at his host for one moment longer, then returned to searching. He didn’t have time to deal with Thomas, if that godforsaken lump even counted as Thomas.

He ran his hand over a counter, then opened a drawer to find nothing but an old-fashioned notebook. It looked important, but when he poked it with one finger, it turned into a toy whistle. Logan slammed the drawer shut once more. He hated deception!

A swooping noise sounded from behind him, and from the corner of his eye, he noticed Thomas turn his head. A side must have just entered the room, and Logan could easily guess who it—yes, there was a gloved finger trailing down the side of Logan’s neck. He whipped around, a fist held up.

Deceit gave Logan a sinister smile. “Now Logan, we both know that you’d never lift a finger against me,” he drawled.

“Falsehood. Given good reason, I would gladly attack you and I would triumph easily, but that would only waste valuable time. Are you here to try and intercept me?” Logan asked, knowing he wouldn’t be told anything worth hearing.

Deceit grinned even more widely. “Of course. Why else would I be here?” He said, walking over to the couch and sitting down with his legs crossed.

Logan squinted at Deceit. “Meaning… You aren’t going to attempt anything?”

“I _am_ going to, Logan. Can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” Deceit said, not even giving Logan a glance. He turned to face Thomas, raising an eyebrow.

“Love the brand new shirt,” he commented, giving his host a smile.

Thomas glared at Deceit. “I’ve had it for almost a year,” he said.

“Really? I had no idea,” he said, turning to examine his gloves.

Logan was bewildered. Why wouldn’t Deceit want to toy with Logan? Toying with people was practically Deceit’s entire purpose! But Logan shook his head and returned to his search. He couldn’t let himself be distracted.

He moved a desk away from the wall, trying to see what was behind it. Deceit sighed. “Oh no, you’ve found the key,” he said boredly. Logan put the desk back without a word.

Deceit’s eyes followed Logan’s movements, and a shiver went down Logan’s spine. Why was he letting this happen? Shouldn’t he try to keep Deceit away from Thomas? Force him to reveal the key’s location? Demand him to help Logan release the other three sides?

What would the other sides do?

A useless question. They weren’t with Logan right now.

He cleared his throat. The true question was: what would Logan do? Because at the moment, the only opinion he had at his disposal was his own (and Thomas’s, but in his current state that man’s comments weren’t worth the oxygen needed to make them.)

Well, Logan was Logan, and he could only think of one thing to do—gain information. Even if that information came from the least reliable source on the planet.

“Why are you here?” Logan asked Deceit, unsure what to expect.

“I already told you. I’m here to act, I’m here to stop you from freeing those friends of yours. I’m not going to just sit on this couch and let you search.”

Logan huffed. This would probably get him nowhere.

“Why are you allowing me to look for the key?” Logan asked.

“Oh, I have every reason to stop you from looking for it. The endeavors of you and Wrath matter so much to me,” Deceit responded, his words sickly sweet.

Logan considered the statement. So Deceit didn’t even care. Why was that a surprise? He shook his head and continued working.

As he walked around the room, opening every drawer and overturning every loose object, he tried not to think about Deceit’s presence. Deceit sure was unsettling… Was that his purpose in being here? To unsettle Logan? That did sound like something Deceit would agree to do, but not like something Wrath would want. Was Deceit even acting on Wrath’s orders right now? Was this a trap? Should Logan be fearing for his own safety?

Was Logan ever going to find that damn key?

“You know, Logan,” Deceit said, breaking Logan’s train of thought. “I’m not quite sure why you’re attempting to help those three.”

Logan kept moving. He tried to tune out the words, but curiosity forced him to listen.

“You always strive to get your word in, to make Thomas see sense and give you the decision-making power. But they just don’t let that happen, do they?” Deceit continued.

Logan kept his back to Deceit. “Having them around improves Thomas’s well-being,” he posited.

Deceit rolled his eyes. “But they don’t improve your well being. Why not just let them stay locked up? All they do is try to sweep you away. Have you forgotten a certain Patton and Virgil incident?”

Logan flinched. “Petty drama such as yesterday’s does not matter right now,” he said, struggling to keep his face free of emotion. “What matters is that Thomas needs his sides. For example, without Roman, Thomas has no passion or drive to make—”

“Oh, I see. You’re looking at this practically.” Deceit smirked at Logan, who flushed with anger. “Just like last time. Remind me how well that worked out for you?”

“I don’t know why I’m even listening to you,” Logan growled. “Nothing you say will change my goal. Thomas’s life will be ruined without those three!”

“And it’s so very noble of you to fight for Thomas. But you don’t really care about _them_ , do you, Logan?”

Logan snorted. “Now you’ve truly started speaking nonsense. I’m searching for them. That is care.”

“But would you really miss them if they were gone?”

That gave Logan pause. “What do you mean by ‘miss’?”

Deceit smiled. “Forget their importance to Thomas for a moment. If they were gone, would you be lonely without them around? Would you feel the loss of Virgil’s sass, or Patton’s humor, or Roman’s dramatic flair? Would you ever wish that you could talk to them, one last time?”

Deceit stood up and approached Logan as he spoke, step by menacingly slow step. “Because if you wouldn’t, if it would be all the same to you, then what would be the point in fighting for them? What would be the point of rescuing them if you don’t care for them at all?” Deceit stood before Logan, so close that their chests were almost touching. He looked at Logan with a face full of contempt.

“You never cared for them, _Logic_ ,” he spat.

Logan’s mind had suddenly gone blank.

Deceit clicked his tongue. His head was held high, and Logan could almost believe that Deceit was floating above him.

“You know what?” he said. “I’m feeling generous right about now. Here’s this old scrap of metal Wrath gave me. I believe you were looking for it?” Deceit held the key out to Logan as he spoke, and though the key was an inanimate object, it still seemed as if it were glaring at him.

Logan merely stared at it, his mouth hanging open. “Why would I accept anything from you?” he asked, his voice very small.

“Because it’s good to explore all possibilities, wouldn’t you agree?” Deceit said, taking Logan’s hand and wrapping it around the key. Logan did nothing to stop him.

“Now, I’ll let you be on your way. I have some very important business to attend to,” Deceit announced. “Good luck with your mission, or whatever.”

Deceit vanished with a whooshing sound, and Logan stared at the key in his hand. It was blood red and sharp at the edges—exactly the kind of key Wrath would make. If it was a trick, it was a very convincing one.

He took a deep breath and adjusted his stance. What Deceit had said didn’t matter—nothing that snake said mattered. All that mattered was freeing the sides.

“Thomas, we have to go to Wrath’s room,” Logan declared, turning to glare at his host. The man was dozing on the couch.

“Hmm?” Thomas responded.

Logan groaned. It had been a chore to get Thomas moving last time, but he would endure it once more in order to get the job done. After all, it was Thomas’s sides that needed saving.

As Logan tugged on Thomas’s arm, he marveled at how illogical he was being. It would be lunacy to go to Wrath’s room right now. He hadn’t found the key yet, and the one Deceit had given him obviously wouldn’t work.

Right?

He found himself moving anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when I'll post the final chapter. I haven't written any new fics in months (blame my busy schedule), bud I did have a significant portion of the final chapter finished when my life started going wild. I'll probably post it someday.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I posted a few months ago on Tumblr (@punch-you-with-friendship). Now, though, Tumblr is doing a content purge, and I'd love to have all of my pics not be destroyed in the process. Thus, I'm posting all of the ones that aren't on this site already to this site. There'll be a flood of content here today, and this fic is just one of them.  
> Credit to @imtoobiforyou on Tumblr for inspiring Wrath's name! I don't know if they have an AO3.


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